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The Hero's Villain: My Friend and I

"Every fairy tale needs a good old fashioned villain" - Jim Moriarty I was the son of a CEO and COO of a consulting company. My whole life, despite never being present for most of it, I'd been trying to get them to notice me. But no matter what I did, they wouldn't do anything. Playing instruments, getting into the 99.9th percentile, or theft, none of it really got their attention. What happens when you die? Some people think you go to heaven or hell while others think you get reincarnated. But me? I never gave much thought to the idea. That was until a truck rammed into me. People are inherently evil and selfish. So, given the option, most people would choose paradise. However, I reject paradise. God gave me a choice: to either help my friend become a strong and worthy hero as a villain in a new and unknown world, or to pass on to heaven. But make no mistake. I'm not a good person. I'll do whatever I have to in order to survive or achieve my goals. I will walk on the thin line between hero and villain, sometimes tripping into one side or the other. Some may hate me, and some may root for me. To me, it doesn't matter. As long as I get what I want. Then he gave me another choice, infinite magic or knowledge. And I choose ... My first time writing, so if it's bad you know why. (Cross-posting on RR soon)

Zarc · Fantaisie
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45 Chs

Deception

The generals looked at me with renewed eyes. Just a few moments ago, they were skeptical of me. They thought I was a spy and was weak. Their eyes expressed their rage. Yet after a few moments, they were watching me with caution.

It's amazing what can change in a few minutes. I'm sure we all have moments that we regret that could've been prevented by a few minutes. In this time, relationships can be formed or broken. Your relative could go from completely healthy to having a heart attack. Or you realize just how dangerous the person you just met is.

While my demeanor was nonchalant and carefree, they saw what I was capable off. Technology that they couldn't dream of was already made and put into use. Technology that'll take Atlantis to the next level. The current world would look primitive compared to the possibilities.

All that potential packed into a kid who looked bored and disinterested. I couldn't even be bothered to keep my head up. They all saw me as a predator who couldn't be bothered chasing the prey.

Despite not having a weapon, the air around me made them weary. One wrong move and I would pounce and uncover their personal secrets.

"Now with that out of the way, please brief me on the war situation." I had stated. They all turned to Michael. If I had to guess, I would think that all their questions were centered on my relationship with Michael. He had just handed a nobody a royal scepter.

Even if they knew the truth, a good relationship isn't something you can just define. You can't put a relationship into words if it's truly valuable. If I asked you to describe your mother, what words would you use? Only adjectives, not statements.

Michael closed his hands and put his fist next to his mouth and coughed to clear his throat. "He has my full support. If he is to help, he needs to understand everything."

"That means not omitting information," I said. "My job is to ensure your victory. I can't do it without you telling me everything."

Michael walked over to the screens and adjusted them to accommodate me. I could clearly see all the screens in my position.

"I've been told how the war started, but I need more details about recent times."

The generals looked to each other before typing on the computer screens. Images began to appear on the screens.

"Well, as you know, Malachi Darkwell rose to power in Spain after the events of the first World War. Citizens were unhappy about the demands made."

"Yeah yeah, I got that part. Fast forward to after reparations and failed appeasement. Start from there."

They all looked at each other before continuing. "They share a border with France which was severely weakened. They stormed full-force, capturing it within three weeks."

"They used blitzkrieg?"

"Blitzkrieg?" The generals asked, confused at the term. "What's that?"

"It's a German word meaning lightning war," Michael clarified. "It's a military strategy that focuses on speed, surprise, and superior firepower. Yes, that's what they did."

I bobbed my head up and down noting that information. I found it odd that Spain took the place of Germany in this war. Some things are bound to be different, but it still intrigued me. "Are Spain and Germany related in any way?"

"In the early days of Spain's founding, it was a combination of what you know as Spaniards and some Germans that used to be in France," He explained. "Today, Germany is part of France."

I clicked my tongue and typed the information out on the computer in front of me. Readers, notes are important! Even if you don't look at them again, it helps your brain remember by writing it out.

Wait, what do you mean you don't care? I thought it was rather helpf-AAHH! Okay! I'll get back to the story.

The generals were looking at our exchange with confusion in their faces. They probably weren't familiar with the history of their opponents. In hindsight, it was probably a red flag that they didn't know it.

One of the generals shook their heads out of confusion and to transition topics. "France's forces were turned to Darkwell's control. He used them to attack Portugal, then Russia."

"How long did all this take?" I asked.

"Portugal was taken out shortly after France. The real challenge was Russia," The general began. "It took them two years before they were finally able to reach Moscow."

I laughed when I heard that information. "Gotta love the Soviets. I bet they burned the crops and villages on their retreat. Napoleon learned that mistake the hard way."

I looked over to Michael and saw that he had a small smile. The other generals were less amused.

"Are you going to take this seriously?" One of the female generals asked. I guess my carefree attitude finally brought her to the edge.

I turned to face her, my smile never leaving my face. "And what makes you think I'm not taking this seriously? I'm collecting information right now."

"You're too busy making jokes!" She retorted.

"My jokes are related to the topic, showing that I understand the material."

She didn't have a response to that. Not even a stupid one. It kind of ruined my mood, I thought our argument was going to be far more interesting. But alas, making a good point in front of a king is bound to get other people to shut up.

"You want a kiss or something?" I asked as they all looked at me. "Continue."

"Uh," One of them began, unsure of what to do. "After the fall of Russia, they began to impose stricter policy to transition to communism. They told us that if we didn't attack them, they wouldn't attack us."

"And you just believed them?" I slowly asked in shock. No way they were that stupid.

"We didn't have a choice," Michael interjected. "If we formed an army to attack, we would've been forced into a war that would cost millions of lives."

"Let me get this straight. At first, you just gave in to their demands. They then declared war and began conquering and you did nothing. Then, they pinky-swore that they wouldn't attack you if you didn't attack them and you believed them."

They all looked to the floor in sheepish embarrassment. "If you actually believed him, I don't know what to tell you. That's just natural selection and you deserve to die."

A heavy silence set in. They were reminded of the single biggest mistake that any of them will probably make in their lives. I saw their shoulders slightly lower as if they felt the weight of the world on them.

"Okay, so what then?"

"Starting a few months ago, they began to move troops over to Belgium getting ready for an attack." Michael said. On the screen were pictures of tanks, planes, landing crafts, etc. The shear multitude of weaponry there was astounding.

There were probably thousands of tanks and planes there. Far more than necessary. If they were able to cross the English Channel, then England would stand no chance.

"How long until they attack?" I asked. Something about this scenario didn't feel right. The area they would be attacking is heavily guarded. A breach would take months, costing even more lives than it should. Not to mention that in the time it had been taking them to gather all the firepower, we would have more time to defend.

"Our intel say that they plan on breaching in five months," The general said.

"How reliable is this intel?" Five months was far too long.

"An agent died giving us the information," The female general said. "Intercepted radio transmissions also confirmed the information."

"Show me information on the agent." I took my chin off my hand. I was now intrigued by the mystery of the attack. Something was amiss, and I wanted to figure out what.

It felt as if I was solving a rubiks cube, except I only had one hand and was colorblind. I didn't have all the information needed.

Michael hummed as he pulled up the relevant information.

Agent Johnathan Wheeler. Member of MI6 who was sent to Spain in order to spy on them. Looking at his check-up calls, he missed 4 before sending his last and final message.

"Play his final message."

The mouse moved over to the triangular play icon. When it was clicked, the audio began to play around the room.

The agent was breathing heavily. His voice was full of distress and anxiety, with the loud bangs of bullets being heard from his side.

"This is Agent Walker," He began. The sound of the gun and bullets flying next to him never quieted down, but instead fueling the tense atmosphere. It almost made his words inaudible. "They're planning to attack from Belgium and crossing the channel in June."

The bullets got shot more rapidly as he began to speak again, this time in between breaths. "Requesting immediate evacuation in Santander Bay Beach in Madrid."

One more bullet rang out as a loud thus followed. I saw several eyes closed as their heads turned away from the screen.

"El espía está muerto," A voice said before the call disconnected.

"It translates to-"

"The spy is dead." I completed. I tilted my head, replaying the audio in my head. Listening to it again, it confirmed my suspicion.

"That intel is false. They're not attacking in five months." I declared.

"What do you mean?" Michael asked as he faced me.

"The bullets," I said. "It's loud. Far too loud. It sounds like they're next to him."

He replayed the audio, this time, paying special attention to the sound of the gun. It sounded like it was coming from in front of him. The sound of the gun was also far too loud to be from a distance. It maxed out the audio.

"He missed the last 4 check-up calls. He probably got caught and tortured until he agreed to follow their instructions."

The puzzle began falling to place in my mind as I was heading towards one realization.

I rose up and began to pace the room, my thoughts flowing rapidly and incoherently throughout my brain. "Seeing is believing, and since we couldn't see, we would trust what we heard. We were desperate for information. And the more desperate you are, the harder it is to find out, the more you believe it."

My eyes widened as I realized their true plan. It was brilliant and perfectly laid out.

"They're not even attacking from Belgium." I turned to Michael. "They're planning D-Day."